


I Cracked my Head and Broke my Heart

by Ischa



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Instability, Pining, Sexual Content, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:03:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2101896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was meant to be a simple Dick/Tim fic, in which Tim is in love with Dick, but because he's only fourteen Dick won't even entertain being with him. Old-fashioned pining fic.<br/>But, then came along Jason. And I'm a sucker for slightly crazy Jay – and timetravel. So...this happened instead.<br/>Tim is in love with Dick, Dick has issues with that and Jason is timetraveling and trying to make everything better. </p><p>  <i>“How do you know my name?” Tim asked. </i><br/><i>The man spread his arms wide and grinned. It was part charming, part dangerous. “I'm the fucking Wizard of Gotham,” he said.</i><br/><i>Tim gave him a look. “Right. For all I know you're dangerous and crazy.”</i><br/><i>“I'm both,” the man said. “But I'm really trying to make it up to you.”</i><br/><i>“What?”</i><br/><i>“That I'm gonna slit your throat,” the man said matter of factly.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I Cracked my Head and Broke my Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This started as PhonePorn, which is unbetaed short porn of various kinks and pairings that I write on my phone when I'm bored at work and send to friends and sometimes post on tumblr.  
> Beta: Icalynn. <3  
> Title: Falls Apart – Hurt

**~Prologue~**

Tim didn’t mean for it to happen. He just wanted to- there had been things he has been thinking about since the first time Dick had touched him, all those years ago. His skin had felt warm afterwards for days. Tim had refused to wash those places, imagining that he could smell Dick on his body. Which was stupid. He knew now and had known back then too.

Since he started to become Robin, training and patrol (not that he was allowed outside often), had dimmed it all. That Dick refused to be with him in the same room had really, should have really but it didn’t, put a damper on his crush (love) for Dick.

He just had wanted to know more about Dick. Not Robin. More about the boy Dick used to be when he had been Tim’s age. The room hadn’t been locked. None of them were anymore to Tim.

He just hadn’t had the need to -invade- Dick’s space before.

Today the desire was irresistible. He closed the door and leaned against it breathing in the scent. It didn’t smell like Dick and Tim knew how Dick smelled in pretty much any situation. Except during or after sex. But his imagination was good. He could fill in the blanks.

The room was untouched since the day Dick had left. Similar to the one at the end of the hall. But Jason’s room, like his uniform in the glass case, was a shrine.

This here felt more like it had been abandoned. Outgrown. Tossed aside carelessly. Tim wondered what he might find here - if anything. Surely Alfred had given Dick’s old clothes away to charity.

He let his eyes wander aimlessly for a while. His back pressed to the dark cool wood of the door. His palms flat against it. Dick had probably been in exactly the same position countless times when growing up.

Suddenly, he wanted to touch everything. Feel the hardwood under his bare feet. Know how the desk felt against his elbows, the chair under his ass. The handle of the closet. The. Bed. Dick’s bed. The bed he had been sleeping in since his parents died. The bed he had been reading in. Jumped on. Touched himself in.

Tim knew that Dick had done it. Every boy does it at some point in his life.

He pushed away from the door and toed off his shoes, before he started on his socks. The hardwood floor felt cool under his feet. He clenched his hands to fists. He should start with the desk but. But the bed was calling to him. Dick’s bed. Even if he wasn’t sleeping in it anymore.

Tim’s steps were slow, but he didn’t waver. He was savoring the thrill of creeping closer. Could feel the tingle of anticipation on his skin like electricity.

His cock gave a hopeful twitch.

Tim took a breath as he stopped at the end of the bed. He could still just leave and do this in his own bed. Where it was familiar and safe. But Tim really had no illusions about himself. He wanted to be closer to Dick. Any way he could. Even if it was only this.

He sat down and let his hands stroke the comforter on either side. It was soft and when he let himself fall backwards and buried his face in it, it smelled clean too.

No trace of Dick.

Didn’t matter, because Tim knew Dick had been here. Had pleasured himself on this comforter or under the sheets.

He bit his lip and then opened his pants. He had been half hard for a while now.

He wondered how Dick had jerked off in the beginning. Had it been slow and teasing, or hard and fast? The only goal an orgasm before sleep claimed him?

Tim knew Dick liked to take his time with his lovers now. Liked kissing which- Tim wasn’t going to think about kissing Dick, because there was no way to mimic it when you were alone.

He dragged up his t-shirt instead, stroking his belly. The hard muscles underneath his skin quivering slightly. This could be Dick’s hand on his side. Wandering up and up to his chest, grazing a nipple which made Tim gasp, so Dick did it again. And again, and again, every time a bit differently. Keeping Tim on his toes and very aroused.

His free hand clenched the comforter, until he made himself let go and slowly stroked his aching cock. He was leaking precome and his boxer briefs were wet which made him moan softly. The wetness could be from Dick’s mouth. His tongue teasing Tim’s cock into hardness. Leaving Dick’s own scent all over Tim’s underwear and skin. Licking his stomach and balls and then just continuing further down and behind. Tim struggled out of his pants and boxers.

The cool air was a welcome shock to his system. It made his cock twitch violently. He imagined Dick’s quite laugh at this. And then Dick would be on him again. Stroking Tim’s cock. Whispering, smearing dirty words of praise into Tim’s skin.

Tim bucked into his own hand ready to come and so close, and then Dick asked if he would take one finger.

Tim groaned and opened his mouth- an invitation for Dick’s long strong fingers.

Tim wanted to make love to those fingers. Wanted to let Dick know what he could do with his mouth. Wanted to make sure that Dick knew he wasn’t - useless.

Once he was satisfied with how wet his finger was, Tim spread his legs, getting comfortable on the bed and started circling his hole. He had done it before. One finger wasn’t a big deal, but Dick’s were bigger and longer, and he anticipated and welcomed the slight burn.

I’ll make it good for you, Dick said in his mind. And Tim believed him. Wanted to believe everything. Wanted Dick to love him. Wanted to make sure Dick knew -never would he say it, never- that he loved Dick. Had always. That Dick was the only one. Would always be the first. Even if Tim’s loyalty was with Batman. His love, all his heart belonged, and would always belong to Dick.

He pushed in steadily and slowly. Sweat breaking out all over his skin. He licked his lip tasting it and his own saliva imaging it was Dick’s.

Doing so well. Can you take another?

"Yes Dick. Yes I can." Tim whispered bringing his fingers to his mouth again and coating then in spit fast. He was desperate for it. He needed to come, but he didn’t want to disappoint Dick who liked playing and drawing it out. Making Tim crazy with want, need, and desire.

He wanted to plead, but bit his lip instead.

He pushed his fingers inside himself again. Locating his prostate and massaging it gently. Dick would be gentle with him - at least the first time.

He played with it as much as he could stand it. Wanting to be good for Dick. Wanting to make him proud. Give him as much pleasure as Tim could give and maybe a bit more.

He gasped again fisting his cock harder, but not stroking.

"Plea-l" he cut himself off as Dick pressed against his prostate hard.

Gonna come for me little brother? Dick asked huskily in his mind.

"Yes," Oh, yes Tim thought.

Let me taste you. Want to swallow you down.

"Oh, god, Dick!" Tim exhaled sharply and arched off the bed as his orgasm hit him.

The second it was over, he knew he wasn’t alone anymore. There was silence. Pregnant and waiting.

Tim didn’t open his eyes.

He was a mess: fingers in his ass. Hand on his still twitching cock. Come all over his chest and running down his penis and hand.

The shame didn’t set in. The resignation was all encompassing. He lost every chance of Dick liking him. He was sure of that.

"I thought you were supposed to be in New York." Tim said quietly.

Dick didn’t answer. Tim wanted to ask how long he had been in the room, but didn’t. It really didn’t matter.

"Dick?" Tim asked. The only answer was the soft sound the closing door made.

It was only fair he guessed that Dick knew his secret now. After all Tim had known many of Dick’s for years.

The question was: what would Dick do with it?

 

**~one~**

Dick was holding on to every little bit of mental (moral) strength he could muster up. His breathing was too fast, his heart wouldn't calm down no matter what, and his cock was uncomfortably hard. He was leaning against the door of his old room, very aware that Tim was on the other side. On his old bed, half naked. Fingers inside his- Dick stopped that thought right there.

It was bad enough that he had seen Tim in that position, in his vulnerability. He had no right to replay it in his head for his own – pleasure, admit it Dick, he scolded himself.

He knew he shouldn't have left Tim like this. He knew he should be leaving right now and not standing just meters away from Tim, only a closed door between him and his little brother who was no doubt freaking out right now.

But Dick just couldn't. Couldn't make himself leave, couldn't make himself talk to Tim. All he could do was stand there and listen to the silence on the other side of the door. Until the silence gave way to small noises, movement in Dick's old room, then he made himself push away from the door and hurried down the corridor.

~+~

Tim wasn't avoiding him, but that had more to do with Dick avoiding the manor, the Cave, Gotham in general. He couldn't help himself. He wasn't ready to face Tim yet.

It had been nine days since he saw Tim jerking off in his old room. Nine days were nothing. He's been gone longer without contacting the manor before.

He had his own cases, but – but.

Tim had been his opportunity to do better. He had never really been there for Jason, because he had been too angry at Bruce for taking on another Robin.

And Jason – he had known. Had felt the resentment. Dick had been a shitty big brother.

Shit, he had been a shitty big brother to Tim too. And just as he was finally coming to terms with his fucking issues, this had to happen.

He should have known. Tim came to him. Tim found out about them, because he found out about Dick. Because he knew Dick, because he had watched Dick, and later Bruce and Jason.  
Tim knew Dick.

And if Tim knew Dick, did he know – could he tell? Shit.

All the things Bruce was teaching him, only made Tim more dangerous, smarter, sneakier.  
But he was still a teenage boy.

Tim had only felt Dick's presence after he came. Dick should have left earlier. Shouldn't have watched.

Shouldn't have shared – stolen – that moment from Tim.

And he really shouldn't be replaying it in his mind. Shouldn't be giving in to the need to touch his aching cock when he did.

But he was. He was replacing Tim's fingers with his own in his head. Was thinking about Tim's scent that he knew so well, Tim's sweet mouth. His lips, soft, warm, a bit wet. A bit chapped maybe because Tim had that habit of biting his lip when he was nervous or concentrating really hard on something, without realizing he was doing it.

In his mind, Dick was pushing fingers past those lips and Tim's mouth was welcoming, warm, wet, agile little tongue.

He gripped his cock harder and stroked faster, wanting to come before his fantasy became more elaborate, filthier.

Because fingers, in Dick's experience, lead to cocks being pushed into warm, wet places. He came with a strangled moan and kept his eyes shut tightly. Breathing and only concentrating on the rush of his orgasm, the way his muscles began to relax, his mind was going thankfully blank and then sleep finally came.

~+~

Dick knew he couldn't avoid Gotham forever, and when Bruce called because he had business with the JL, there was no way Dick could say no to coming back and taking over Tim's training. He had been thinking about it, but really there was no one else who could be trusted with it at this delicate stage of training to be Robin.

It was a minor miracle that Bruce even asked. Dick knew how hard it must have been for him. So he said yes and tried not to think about it too deeply.

It was for the sake of the mission.

~+~

Tim wasn't behaving any differently. He was better than he had been all those weeks ago, but he was still – Tim.

Shy, but determined and also – it was Dick who had the problem now.

Dick who noticed things about Tim that had gone unnoticed before.

Like the way his collarbone looked so delicate. Or how soft and milky his skin looked. Unblemished, except for a few bruises here and there peeking out.

Had he ever been so aware of his own bruises in the beginning? Certainty not, because he had always been bruised, it came with being an acrobat, living in a circus. And Jason – Jason had always been bruised too. Outside and inside.

So those bruises were parts of them. Of the lives they lead, but with Tim it was different.

Dick itched with the need to run his fingertips over Tim's collarbone, the bridge of his nose, the line of his neck or jaw.

Span that ribcage with his hands and -

Tim looked up at him. “I'm sorry,” was the first thing he said when he saw Dick.

“Sorry?” Dick asked, because what was that kid thinking?

“That you had to come here,” Tim said.

“Bruce asked me to come,” Dick replied.

“I tried to tell him I could do this on my own. Two weeks-”

“Is that what he said? Two weeks? It could well be longer. It probably will be, or he wouldn't have asked me to come here. You can't slack of for two weeks or more-”

“I won't!” Tim cut in sharply. “I wouldn't slack off. I would follow his teaching plan resolutely,” he added a bit calmer.

And the fucked up thing, was that Dick knew, that it was the honest to god truth. Tim would probably even push himself harder because Bruce wasn't there.

“Moot point, because I'm here now and I will take over your training until he comes back, so show me what you've got,” Dick said.

Tim nodded, once, sharply. Like a bird, all fragile determination. And then started his routine. His warm up was perfect, his movements too, but they lacked a certain fluidly and grace.

Something that Dick – to some point – could teach him.

~+~

The kid, Dick thought, was too in control. Dick saw none of the restless energy that he knew was under the surface. He had seen it, that raw desire and need.

“Do you even have fun?” Dick asked pausing his attack abruptly, which threw Tim off balance, so he stumbled a bit, but caught himself just in time. He took a step back, looking at Dick warily.

“Fun?” He asked.

“Fun,” Dick replied. Like you had on my bed.

“Fun has nothing to do with this.”

“And that's where you're wrong. Even Bruce has fun doing this sometimes. It's probably more of a 'I solved an impossible puzzle' kind of fun for him, but hey, to each their own. You can't be doing this if you don't have fun at least from time to time.”

Tim frowned which Dick found adorable, but kept to himself. “I don't...”

Dick nodded. “You need to find it. Find something that isn't just work and blood and death. Broken bones and shattered lives.”

Tim stood up straighter and looked at Dick. He was so fucking small, Dick thought, but his eyes: they were so serious, so much older than his body.

“What is yours?”

Dick grinned at him. “I'll show you. Grab a helmet.”

“I-”

“Grab a helmet and a jacket, Robin.”

“Yes,” Tim said, because Bruce already drilled that into him. Robin obeyed.

There were a few things Dick loved about this gig. The flying for one, but Tim wasn't ready for that, at least not outside the cave. The train-surfing, but again Tim wasn't ready for that, his balance needed more training and Dick would see to that. Soon.

But there was the rush of a deserted street at night, the speed in his veins, the hum of the machine between his legs.

This had been Jason's favourite part of being a vigilante. This and kicking the bad guys really hard. Jason had always liked to use his fists. He had been brutal, sharpened by his years on the street and made into a weapon of precision by Bruce. But also, he had always been angry. And only calm when he could drive as fast as the bike would go. Maybe the rush of the wind, and the blurred scenery calmed something in his heart, that none of them knew was even there.

Tim’s gloved hands were holding on tightly to Dick. His face pressed to Dick's back, his knees tightly to the bike under them.

Dick could hear his breathing and he could (or though he could) feel Tim's heart beating hard and fast in his chest.

“Are we having fun yet?” Dick asked through the comm. “Or should we go a bit faster?” He continued and without waiting for an answer he sped up.

Tim's fingers were digging almost painfully into his stomach now, he was pressed so tightly against Dick's back, that there was no space between them. It made Dick's cock twitch and he knew it wasn't only the adrenalin. It was Tim and his proximity. Maybe this was a stupidly bad idea.

“Relax a bit and just let it roll through you, Timmy,” Dick said gently.

Tim nodded against his back and then his fingers relaxed slightly from their death-grip. He was doing the breathing exercises that Bruce had thought him. Relaxing one muscle group after another. Taking back control.

It wasn't what Dick wanted Tim to learn, but every lesson was a valuable one, he though wryly. Maybe flying would be more to Tim's liking, maybe it would be different once he had his own bike. Maybe he was too much like Bruce already, and the solving of a case would bring him joy. Maybe he needed to kick some ass, but again: not there yet.

Dick slowed the bike down and drove into town. They were dressed in civvies and the bike wasn't a bat – drive either.

“What are you doing?” Tim asked.

“Gonna grab something to eat. I'm starving,” Dick said parking at a diner. He knew that Jason used to come here from time to time on his off days. “Best hotdogs in town,” he added as he took off his helmet.

“Hotdogs?”

“And milkshakes. Ice-cream too. Pick what you want,” Dick said watching Tim get off the bike. He was looking at the diner and not at Dick.

“I don't like hotdogs.”

“They have fries too. Whatever you want,” Dick said and got an unreadable look for that one.

“I'm not a kid, Dick, and I can buy my own food, because I actually have my own money.”

“Is that your charming way of saying you don't need anything from me?” Dick asked and it was just a bit sharper than he wanted to. Seriously this kid.

Tim looked away. “Sorry. I didn't mean to be ungrateful.”

Shit, Dick thought, but talking to Tim was like manoeuvring a minefield. Dick sighed. “We don't have to.”

“You said you were starving,” Tim pointed out.

“Yes, I am. Aren't you?”

Tim shrugged. “I ate before training.”

At least two hours before training, and then training took three, and then the drive. That makes a total of nearly seven hours, Dick thought. No wonder the kid was so small for his age. When Bruce, when they, were done with him there wouldn't be an ounce of fat on his body. “That was hours ago, Timmy. You need to eat.”

“Fine. Maybe a salad, and don't call me Timmy,” Tim said. “I'm not five.”

“Okay,” Dick said, locking up the bike and going inside. Tim followed like Dick knew he would.

~+~

Five days into the training of Tim Drake and Dick was impressed despite himself. Tim really gave it his all. No matter what Dick demanded he tried it and then again and again and again. Until he had it right.

Bruce did a great job building up strength and speed, endurance and Dick was working on flexibility.

And fun.

He still didn't think Tim had enough fun. Sometimes, after a really long sparing session he would just lie on the mat, his arms and legs outstretched like a starfish on land and look at the ceiling with that small, barely there really, smile curving around his lips and just breathing. And Dick would stand on the edge or sit on the pummel-horse and just watch the kid smile.

Maybe, Dick thought, Tim's joy was a different, quitter kind. Maybe Tim was made to obey – which was such a disturbing thought to have.

He jumped from the pummel-horse and stretched. “Time to hit the showers. Tomorrow's a school-day,” he said.

“Yes,” Tim said, already getting up. He didn't look at Dick as he headed for the shower.

Dick didn't follow him.

~+~

Tim was staying at the manor because it was more convenient. His parents weren't home anyway and this way he had access to the cave and all of the training equipment day and night.

It was strange to think of Tim as someone else’s. Robin belonged to Batman. Like he had belonged to Bruce, like Jason had.

Tim was different. He wasn't Bruce's, but he was Batman's. Tim was everything that he and Jason hadn't been.

Dick let his head fall back on the edge of the kitchen chair's back and looked at the ceiling. The manor was silent. Alfred long asleep in his bed and Tim – in the guest-room that was so far away from Jason's room and Dick's old one he was using now again.

He couldn't sleep. Felt restless under his skin and deep in his bones.

He needed to get laid, he realized.

He glanced at the clock. One fifteen. It was still early enough to get a drink in a shady bar and pick up someone who was on the prowl. And it was Friday, a club would do nicely too. Lots of young, hot, willing bodies.

His mind made up, Dick showered, put on clothes, and left the manor.

~+~

Tim was sitting on the stairs when Dick opened the door the next morning around ten. He was in last night's clothes and needed a shower desperately.

Tim looked him up and down and then stood up, getting up close and personal. Dick didn't know what to say or do. He felt like he somehow cheated on the kid which was such bullshit.

“Alfred is grocery shopping. He made coffee. I'll be in the cave,” Tim said.

“Tim-”

“What?” Tim asked over his shoulder.

“How long have you been up already?”

“Seven. Training starts at eight,” Tim said.

“Not on Saturdays,” Dick replied gently.

“Maybe not with you. With Bruce it does. He – even if he goes out the night before,” Tim said.

“I'm not Bruce,” Dick said.

“I know.” Tim gave him a nod and left.

Dick felt like smashing things.

~+~

He was harsh and brutal, merciless the whole Saturday during training and he went out as soon as he could get away. He didn't have to explain himself to a kid. He was an adult and he had fucking needs.

He made sure to let Tim know that training wouldn't start for him until after lunch and that he could do whatever he wanted with his free time.

Dick was going to get drunk, dance, and then get laid. Preferably by more than one person.  
It didn't surprise him, that the boy he took up on his blowjob offer looked too young to be there and had a fragile looking collarbone. That boy wasn't a virgin by any means and he swallowed Dick down with no difficulty.

Dick fucked that willing mouth without much restraint and bit back a moan that could have been Tim's name as he came.

He was so fucking screwed.

 

**~two~**

“He's gonna screw you over kid,” the man said.

Tim looked at him, all shadows and the red cherry of a cigarette. “Do I know you?” Tim asked. He was in civvies because he wasn't allowed to be out on patrol alone yet, but no one could keep him inside his house if he wanted to take a walk around the city. Dick didn't care anyway. He wasn't even home. Tim knew exactly where Dick was on Friday and Saturday nights.

The man stepped closer and Tim knew that he should be afraid or tense, but he just wasn't. He knew that he could take anyone by now who wasn't a trained – assassin or something. Normal attacks, opportunity muggings and rapes, he could handle those kinds. There was something familiar about the way the man moved, about the way he spoke, but not his voice. He was wearing a domino mask like Nightwing, but red and – Kevlar and a gun, no two at least, and a knife.

“Not yet,” the man said. “And it won't be pretty either, but,” he took a deep drag and let it out slowly, “I can't help it. It's how things will be.”

Tim was looking at him. Why wasn't this weird? Why wasn't it weird that he was in his civvies perched in the shadow of a gargoyle talking to a man in a mask he had never seen before?

“Who will screw me over?” Tim asked.

“Nightwing,” the man said.

Tim's eyes narrowed. The way he said Nightwing was too familiar, like he knew who Nightwing was, who he had been, who he will be.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Tim said.

“Sure you don't, but let me tell you. Don't fall for him,” the man replied finishing his cigarette.

“I don't know-”

“Okay, he trained you good. You will die with a lie on your lips and that, that is pretty fucked up, but I guess that's how it's done in that particular family,” the man cut in.

Tim bit his lip.

“And that's a tell, you know? It's how they know things about you, but you can use it to your advantage,” the man said, coming closer.

“What is?” Tim asked, his heart was beating way too fast and there was something in his stomach that was like a million butterflies making it hard to breathe.

“That,” the man said, reaching out with a gloved hand, gauntlets, Tim's brain supplied, and stroking a finger gently over Tim's bitten lip. Tim flinched and pulled away. “It's a tell. You do it when you're nervous or concentrating too hard. You can use it, make them believe the lie. You're going to be such a good liar, Tim,” he said.

“How do you know my name?” Tim asked.

The man spread his arms wide and grinned. It was part charming, part dangerous. “I'm the fucking Wizard of Gotham,” he said.

Tim gave him a look. “Right. For all I know you're dangerous and crazy.”

“I'm both,” the man said. “But I'm really trying to make it up to you.”

“What?”

“That I'm gonna slit your throat,” the man said matter of factly. “You should insist on a collar, high and hard to protect your neck.”

“A collar?”

“With your new uniform,” the man said.

Tim got up. This was getting way too bizarre even for him, even for Gotham. “Okay, I'm just gonna – go.”

“See you around, Babybird,” the man said, sitting down on a gargoyle and lightning another cigarette.

Tim was watching him the whole time as he was slowing backing away.

~+~

He was thinking about telling Dick about it, but really what would've he said? For all Tim knew, it could've been some weirdo. God knew, Gotham had enough of those.

When he opened the door Dick was sitting on the stairs and looking at him. A reversal of last week. Tim sighed and was about to bite his lip, but then just clenched his hands instead.

“Where have you been?” Dick asked.

“Out. Taking a walk. I knew you wouldn't be home,” Tim replied, toeing off his shoes. He liked to feel the smooth marble of the entry hall under his feet, even in socks.

“Well, I am,” Dick said.

“Your night didn't go as planned?” Tim asked. His voice was devoid of any emotion, but it was still bait. In its own way.

Dick gave him a look. “Do we need to talk about this?”

“About what?” Tim asked.

“About your crush or whatever on me, Tim.”

It's not a crush, Tim wanted to say, but would Dick even believe him? “You didn't want to talk about it and you still don't,” he replied instead.

“No, I don't. You're fourteen. And I'm nearly ten years older than you.”

Tim coked his head. “I've never demanded anything from you, Dick. I never-”

“You masturbated on my bed, Tim.”

“You weren't supposed to be in Gotham at the time,” Tim said.

“That's not the point,” Dick replied sharply.

“It's not. I am not sitting in your lap and rubbing my ass against your cock or walking around half-naked so you could see me. I am here, so you can train me, so I can be a better Robin. So I won't die. Everything else, shouldn't be your concern,” he added.

Dick ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “Right. It's temporary anyway.”

Tim wondered if he meant the training or Tim's feelings for him. It didn't matter, he guessed, because neither was true.

~+~

Tim snuck out before he could think about it. He was in civvies again, but that didn't mean he was defenceless. Dick was gone. Bruce was back at the manor. Tomorrow was a school-day and Tim should have been in bed, but he had felt restless and the city had called to him. He hadn't been afraid when he had been eleven and following Batman and Robin, he had even less reason to be afraid now. He knew this city.

“Easy, not here to kill you,” the man said. He was wearing a dark red hoodie and the domino. Plus he had two guns and three knives, that Tim knew of. Probably more weapons somewhere not as easy to spot. Tim should've been terrified. The way he fought, the way he knew what Tim would use suggested that he had been trained by Bruce too. But – there was no one else left except Nightwing and this man, this man wasn't Nightwing.

“Yet? You said you're going to cut my throat,” Tim pointed out. This man was a mystery and so very, very familiar, but Tim still couldn't put his finger on it.

“In my defence, I'll be crazy with grief and rage, and some kind of fucked up love when I do that. Don't take it personal,” he replied.

“Can't you just not slit my throat?” Tim asked.

The man laughed. “I wish I could stop that. Did you ask about the collar?”

Tim nodded. He had and Bruce thought it was a good idea. It was a bit hindering, but if Tim had to put up with having his throat slit open in the future he would like to be prepared as best he could be, so he would survive it.

“B's gonna give you real pants too?” He asked, exhaling smoke. He had pretty lips, Tim thought, plush and soft looking.

“Yes,” Tim said. The new costume was more Batman than Robin, but it would protect Tim more effectively and Tim had to hide all his bruises and scars from his parents, so it was better to not have as many. Because even Tim's parents would notice sometimes.

“Good. Should have done that a long time ago. How he thought it was a good idea to let Dick out in the shorts is really beyond me,” the man said.

“You know a lot of things,” Tim said.

The man grinned, sharp and amused. “I do. And you wonder why I haven't sold all of it to the highest bidder yet?”

Tim had wondered about that, yes, but also- “This is personal for you.”

“Sure is, kid,” the man said.

“You know Dick then?” Tim asked, and maybe, just maybe he was talking to a figment of his own imagination.

“Good enough to know he's gonna screw you over.”

“How?” Tim asked.

“By choosing someone else to be his Robin,” the man said. It was matter of fact, but still there was something in his voice that tried to soften the blow.

“Nightwing doesn't have a Robin,” Tim said.

“No,” the man replied. “Nightwing doesn't.”

And it clicked for Tim then. Batman had need of a Robin. If Dick – Dick would be Batman one day, which meant that Bruce was going to hand the mantle over – or, more likely, he would die.

“When?” Tim asked.

“Can't tell you all the good parts,” the man said.

“Why are you here then?” Tim demanded, getting angry.

“So you won't die, Babybird,” the man replied.

“So, you changed your mind about my death?” Tim said.

“Yes, once I see the big picture. Once I master my rage. Once I find peace and let me tell you, it won't be here. It won't be with him. Never will it be with him.”

“Jason?”

“Ah, Babybird, smarter than the rest of us,” Jason said, letting his butt fall down over the railing.

“How are you-”

“Alive? Spoiler, I am not allowed to tell. This is stretching the rules to the limit anyway.”

“I need to tell-”

Jason pressed his hand over Tim's mouth hard and fast and Tim was too shocked to fight it. He was concentrating on breathing. “You can't tell him Babybird. I'm still dead right now. My corpse is rotting away this very second.”

The images could give a person nightmares.

“He wouldn't believe you anyway,” Jason whispered and then he leaned in and kissed Tim's forehead. “Still so soft, Babybird.”

Tim clenched his hands to fists on his sides. His heart was racing. He didn't know what to do. “When the time comes I want you to be prepared, you understand?”

Tim nodded.

“Good. I will try to kill you. I will be set on killing you. You have to become a better Robin, Babybird. You have to be better than Nightwing. He can teach you a shitload of stuff. Just don't let your feelings for him rule your judgement. He's not perfect. Really, far from it. He was a shitty big brother, although I liked that he called me Little Wing,” he stepped back and Tim took a deep calming breath. “I was a shitty little brother too. Always felt like I couldn't measure up to him.”

“Jason-”

“You don't have that problem, do you? You just want to be what they need. But Babybird, you need to be what you need to be to survive the rage that will be me.”

“Okay,” Tim said.

“Good.” He smiled and then looked down and Tim just knew that he was ready to jump and disappear.

“Jason!”

“Yes?”

“Will I see you again?”

Jason smiled, it wasn't a happy smile. “Unfortunately yes.” And then he was gone.

 

**~three~**

“Even for us,” Dick said, jumping down from the tree he had been sitting in, “That is really creepy.”  
Tim didn't even turn around. Dick was pretty sure, Tim had known for some time that Dick had been watching him.

Tim was sitting, crouching really, on Jason's grave, his hands buried in the soft wet earth.

“Do you come here often?” Dick asked.

That earned him a smile, thrown over Tim's shoulder, but hey, Dick was taking what he could get these days.

“Tim.”

“Yeah, actually, I do. Sometimes, I put my hands over that spot where his heart should be,” Tim replied.

Tim was such a scary little thing, Dick thought. He was nearly sixteen now, and still too small and delicate looking for his age. Dick and Bruce had done what they could to put muscles on him and protective layers over protective layers of uniform, but it still didn't seem like enough. Tim was pretty much resigned to it, but Dick still kept hoping that that growth spurt would come.

“Why?” Dick asked. He didn't visit Jason's grave often. Pretty much never, actually. The whole concept made him uncomfortable. Dick carried his deaths around with him like was his peoples' custom.

“Because I feel closer to him that way.”

“He's dead, Tim. You didn't know him-”

“Did you?” Tim asked. But of course he knew the answer. Dick had told him what a shitty brother he had been to Jason. Told him about the anger and resentment. Told him that he wanted to do better by Tim.

“Not as well as he would've liked,” Dick replied. He ran a hand through his hair. It was a bad habit and showed whenever he was Dick Grayson and aggravated. It didn't matter here of all places, he thought wryly.

Tim turned then to face him. “Yeah,” he said which was – Dick didn't even know. Sometimes he had no clue what was going on in Tim's head at all. Sometimes it seemed like he was waiting for something. Something important and horrible.

But then; all of them were kind of doing that. It was part of the gig.

“Come on, get up, I'll buy you coffee,” Dick said.

Tim did get up and looked at him. “Why did you come here anyway?”

Dick looked up at the grey sky. It was getting colder. Winter was fast approaching. Autumn made him melancholy for some weird reason.

“Dick?” Tim asked.

“I need help with a case,” Dick said, because it was the truth.

“Okay,” Tim said and gave Dick a small smile when Dick looked at him.

Dick had the urge to reach out and hug the living hell out of Tim, but that wasn't the relationship they had and it was Dick's own fault for putting up barriers in those first months.

“Bike is parked by the gate,” Dick said, Tim nodded and followed. There was graveyard dirt under his fingernails. For some reason it made Dick shudder.

~+~

Tim was brooding over the files, while Dick was watching him. He just couldn't help himself. There was something about Tim that reminded him of Bruce – in the good ways and in the bad.

“You're staring,” Tim pointed out.

“I'm bored,” Dick replied and put the laugh he wasn't really feeling these days into his voice.

Tim didn't look up from the case files. Sometimes Dick wondered what the hell was wrong with them all, that they allowed kids to look at gruesome pictures of murder victims. “Liar,” Tim accused.

“I really am,” Dick said. He was going nowhere with the case and he hated pouring over files the most because he couldn't move like he was meant to fucking move.

Tim, because he was so fucking in tune with Dick, or just knew Dick so well after all that time, got up and stretched. His t-shirt rid up for a second. He cocked his head and looked at Dick. It was a challenge. Dick shoved the coffee-table aside with a well-placed kick. Tim grinned and then attacked without further warning.

It was a spar for fun. They were playing. Dick had learned that this was Tim's vigilante thing, sparing with other vigilantes. This was fun for Tim, probably because it was also improving his skill set. But to each their own. Dick was glad that Tim actually had fun on the job.

He back-flipped over the couch and out of Tim's reach, grinning at him. If Tim had his suit it would've been a whole other thing, but Tim was in his civvies and Dick had mass, experience and agility on him. Tim was very good and he had pinned Dick a fair amount of times in the cave, but they were on Dick's turf now, so to speak. And Dick knew his own apartment better than anyone.  
He had Tim pinned to the wall in under 10 minutes. But Tim wasn’t really putting up a fight. Dick could feel his breath against his neck and he could smell Tim's sweat. Feel Tim's body heat. He let go of Tim and stepped away. Tim looked up at him.

“Feeling better?” Tim asked.

“Feeling horny,” Dick replied.

Tim laughed. It was an easy laugh and sounded real enough, but Dick was careful with assumptions when it came to Tim these days. He was a really good liar. Hell he lied to Bruce. Dick used to be able to read the kid, but since the – the incident – it had gotten harder and harder. And again, Dick thought, no one was to blame for this but himself.

“That means yes then, back to work?” Tim asked.

Dick groaned. “Slavedriver.”

“You know it, Dick,” Tim said.

Dick gave him a look and Tim smiled at him again.

Dick gave up trying to decipher Tim for the night. He was a sphinx.

“Come on then. Maybe we'll crack that thing tonight,” Dick replied.

“Maybe,” Tim said.

~+~

Dick was sure that Bruce was just as blind-sided as he was. The only one who seemed to know – and how was that fucking possible in the first place? - was Tim.

There was blood everywhere. Tim was holding his own throat so he wouldn't bleed out and – the fucking collar was actually helping. Dick, Dick didn't know what to do.

Thank fucking god that Alfred did.

Dick was just watching helplessly as his little brother, as Tim was being stitched together and Bruce – fuck, Dick couldn't be thinking about Bruce right now, because that would lead to thoughts about Jason and how was that even fucking possible?

He just concentrated on breathing until Alfred took off the bloody gloves and gave Dick a smile.  
“Thank fucking god,” he said and no one even tried to reprimand him for that comment. The relief was crashing over him like a wave and he felt like he was going to drown. He sagged against the nearest wall of the cave and closed his eyes.

Too fucking close.

~+~

Tim was watching him. The bandage around his neck looked like some kind of obscene scarf. But he was looking at Dick and even smiling a tiny bit.

“You knew,” Dick said, because it was so clear now. Tim had known that this would happen. He had known it and hadn't told anyone about it, didn't even try to prevent it either.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Tim said, it was just a hoarse whisper.

“The training, the collar. You knew somehow that this would happen. You knew.”

“Dick, listen to yourself. How could I have known? Why would I let this happen to me?”

“Because...because you're crazy and because you knew you wouldn't die,” Dick said, running both hands through his hair. He made no sense and he knew it, but he also knew that Tim had known this would happen to him. He had known and he let it happen.

“Dick-”

“I didn't know you wouldn't die, Tim. I didn't know,” Dick cut in sharply. He grabbed Tim's hand too tightly, but Tim didn't even flinch. “I thought you would die. I thought we would lose you like we lost Jason, but this time around it would be so much worse because-” he cut himself off because this wasn't the time or place and it sure as hell wasn't Tim's problem that Dick was in fucking love with him. Now.

“I know, Dick,” Tim said.

“Do you?” Dick asked, but he wasn't sure that Tim didn't know that Dick was in love with him. Tim knew everything about Dick. Had known so much more, before Dick even acknowledged his existence.

“Yes,” Tim said and leaned forward so their lips were nearly touching. Dick was a horrible fucking human being, because he didn't want anything more than to kiss the breath out of Tim and then continue for a while until the maybe both passed out from a lack of oxygen.

“Tim.”

“Dick,” Tim said and closed that tiny distance, because he had always been braver than Dick, and it was better than Dick had hoped for. It was soft and warm and Tim's lips were a bit chapped and tasted a bit bitter. Painkillers most likely. Dick didn't care. He breathed Tim in and pulled him closer.

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?” Tim asked.

“For pushing you away.”

“I was fourteen,” Tim said, always the voice of reason.

“And now you're older, but that doesn't make me any younger, Tim,” Dick replied.

Tim leaned his head against Dick's, so they could share each other's breath. “I know. But what does it matter?”

“Tim-”

“I’ve always wanted you,” Tim cut in. “I was always yours. Not Bruce's, not Batman's. Always yours. You just didn't want me, so-” He shrugged.

“Is that why you let Jason slit your throat?” Dick asked sharply.

“I'm not suicidal,” Tim answered and pulled away.

Dick was regretting the loss of Tim's breath against his skin, but – but they really needed to talk about this.

“That scar forming there, tells a different story.”

Tim sighed. “He needed me to be this for him.”

Oh, fuck, Dick thought. Tim always wanted to be needed. Needed to be needed. Wanted to help them because – he was messed up that way good and Jason had been Robin.

“Fuck, Tim. Fuck.”

“It's alright. You trained me, you made me a better Robin. I'm alive because you made me strong, even if I'm small and scrawny and-”

“You are beautiful,” Dick cut in.

Tim blushed. It was adorable. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” Dick said and leaned in again. Leaving Tim enough time so he could stop him, but Tim didn't, so Dick kissed him again. He made the kiss just a little bit dirty and was rewarded with a moan and then a wince. Right, Dick thought. Tim's throat was messed up.

He pulled away. “I'm not done with you, but you need to rest.” He pushed Tim into the pillows and stroked his hair away from his forehead. Now that he could he never wanted to stop touching Tim.

Tim was smiling at him and also drifting off.

Dick kissed his temple and then let him sleep.

~+~

Dick felt more, than he saw the figure in the shadows. He was ready to fuck Jason up for what he had done to Tim, but – something held him back.

He glanced down at the city.

“Babybird alright?” Jason asked.

Babybird, Dick thought. It sounded precious and ran far too familiar over Jason's tongue. Dick felt a stab of jealousy. He watched him as Jason lit a cigarette and inhaled slowly.

“You tried to kill him and now you're concerned?”

“I was concerned before I tried to kill him,” Jason replied, which – made no sense at all, except that it did. This Jason was not the Red Hood that was somewhere out there killing scum left and right.

“Jason.”

“I missed your voice Bigwing,” Jason said, exhaling smoke.

“I missed yours too,” Dick replied because it was the truth. “But you're not really here.”

Jason crouched beside him. Dick could feel his body heat. “I am. I am here with you and I am out there killing McNear right now.”

“Don't tell me these things,” Dick said.

“You would've known anyway it was me. I left a calling card. I used to do that in the beginning. Now...they know me. Know that they shouldn't fuck with me, because I don't carry my guns for show.” He inhaled and kept the smoke in his lungs for a bit too long. Dick was counting. Jason always liked the burn.

Dick turned to look at him and Jason did the same. He grinned. “The worst is yet to come.”

“What?”

“I can't tell.”

“Does Tim know?” Dick asked.

“I didn't tell him,” Jason replied, which didn't mean that Tim didn't know. “But things changed now. You and Babybird kissed and made up.”

“Yeah...he's still a minefield.”

“And he'll always stay that way,” Jason said, finishing his cigarette. He let the butt fall over the edge of the rooftop and got up, stretching. Dick followed his movements. Jason still couldn't be called graceful, but there was a raw energy to him that was just stunning.

“Why did you come?” Dick asked, because it was the only thing he really wanted to know.

“Once I killed him. And it made you sad,” Jason said, looking into the distance. “You became everything he hadn't been after I died.”

“Oh,” Dick said.

“Yes, and somehow I couldn't bear it, so...I made a deal and here I am.”

Dick nodded. He didn't want to know the specifics anymore. Life was not better if you knew the future. “Thanks,” he said.

“You're welcome,” Jason said and then, “Don't give up on me, okay?”

“I would never give up on you, Little Wing,” Dick said.

Jason made a noise that sounded so pained and raw that Dick just had to hug the living hell out of him. To his surprise Jason hugged back.

 

**~Epilogue~**

“You’re really kind of messed up, aren’t you?” Jason asked. It was real Jason, this time’s Jason.

Well, Tim thought, Jason.

Tim shrugged. He was and he knew it. After all the stunts he pulled pretty much everyone knew it. He could feel Jason exhale smoke right behind him, but Tim knew that Jason wasn’t here to try and kill him again. He had gotten that out of his system fast. “It’s fucked up, but thanks.” Jason said softly.

Tim looked at him then. He even pulled the lenses up, so Jason could see his eyes. “I know it’s fucked up, but you’re welcome.”

“Did you know I would – well, not come back, but whatever?”

“No,” Tim said, because he didn’t know for sure. “I hoped you would. Everyone is really happy you’re alive.”

“Didn’t look like it for a while there. Although, I’m surprised Dick didn’t give up on me.”

“Dick would never give up on you and somehow it was you who gave him a push,” Tim smiled. “Without you I don’t think he would’ve made a move.”

“Spare me the details, Babybird.”

Tim looked away from Jason’s face and put the lenses back down. Gotham was cold and dark and quite tonight. Maybe he would call it a night and go home – or swing by Dick’s place.

“He didn’t do it, did he?” Jason asked, crouching down next to him.”

Tim could feel the blush and fought against it. “No.”

“Why?”

“Says I’m too small,” Tim said.

“Interesting,” Jason replied. “Maybe you’ll have to tie him up and just take him,” he added.

“That sounds kinda rapey,” Tim replied.

Jason made a face. “He wants you, he just has…issues.”

“We’ve done things, but he doesn’t want to hurt me,” Tim said.

“Well, it’ll hurt a bit anyway, because you know…he’s not really small.”

“And I am,” Tim sighed.

“You could always top the hell out of Dick,” Jason replied.

Tim…had entertained it in a vague sense, but since the first time he put a finger inside himself he wanted it to be Dick’s cock. It was an obsession. Yearlong and deep.

“I’ve taken worse,” Tim said. “I have the scars to prove it too,” he pulled the collar down so Jason could see. “A little discomfort when Dick’s inside me won’t kill me.”

“I don’t think you should use that argument,” Jason replied wryly.

“It’s the only one I have left,” Tim said. “Plus Dick is kind of obsessed with the scar.” It was hot. Dick would get all intense on Tim every time he touched it, every time they made love, because with Dick it was making love and could never be called anything else.

“Things I don’t need to know about Bigwing,” Jason said.

Tim shrugged. “You seemed to know a lot of stuff when we first met.”

“We met when I slit your throat,” Jason said.

“That’s when you met me, but not when I met you,” Tim replied.

Tim could feel Jason’s eyes on him. Boring into him. “Babybird-”

“Spoiler,” Tim said. “Also there is something going down two blocks away. Wanna come play?”

“Sure,” Jason said.

~+~

Dick grabbed him as soon as he climbed in the window. Tim melted into his arms and let Dick pull him down and onto the bed. It was soft and unmade and smelled faintly like Dick and Tim and the orgasms they had this morning.

Tim hummed when Dick kissed him and let Dick press him into the pillows. It was easy for Dick to get Tim out of his suit.

“You’ve been out with Jason,” Dick said sniffing Tim’s hair.

“He sends his love,” Tim replied, flipping them over so he was sitting in Dick’s lap. Grinding his erection into Dick’s. Dick’s eyes were nearly black with desire. It still took Tim’s breath away, seeing it directed at him. “He also said I should tie you down and ride your cock.” He leaned down to lick Dick’s lips. Dick’s hands grabbed his hips.

“Tim-”

“Told him it was rapey,” Tim cut in.

Dick winced. “Way to kill the mood.”

“You’re still hard, Dick,” Tim pointed out. “I want you to fuck me Dick.”

“Tim-”

“I’ve taken worse pain than that and you know it. Besides I’ve been practising – pretty much since I was fourteen.”

“With your fingers-”

“Yours too and,” he bit his lip – it was a calculated move – “Toys.”

“Toys.”

“You know I like to be prepared.”

“Yes, I do, but Tim.”

“I want you, Dick. I’m asking,” Tim said. “Please. We don’t have to do it again if you don’t like it, but once – just-”

And Dick surged up and kissed him hungry and dirty and a bit tender at the end too. Tim was breathless again. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Dick said.

~+~

“Been trying not to think about this since the first time I saw you masturbate,” Dick said, pushing another finger inside Tim. Dick’s voice was strained and gravely and such a turn on for Tim.

“Dick-”

“Turn around for me?”

“I want to see your face,” Tim said.

“It’ll be easier Tim, you’re still so – delicate,” Dick replied, leaning down and kissing the tip of Tim’s cock. It made Tim groan.

“I’m not. I – this is how I imagined it, Dick. This is-”

Dick kissed him then, Tim could taste himself on Dick’s lips. It was hot and dirty and everything Tim wanted. He was so ready. He was beyond ready, really because he had been waiting for this for years.

“God, Tim,” Dick kissed his cheek and then he just looked at Tim. Tim could feel himself flush all over. He was feeling restless, his hips were rolling and thrusting, he just wanted Dick inside him already.

“Come on,” he said, but it was quite and soft.

“You’ll tell me to stop-”

“Yes,” Tim lied.

Dick gave him a look because he knew. “Tim-”

“You won’t hurt me, Dick. Not like this,” Tim cut in.

He grabbed his own legs and spread himself wider. His hole was wet and clenching around nothing. Needing to be filled up.

Dick made a noise that was pure animal and then his hands were on Tim again and his cock was nudging Tim’s entrance. When Dick finally pushed in, Tim threw his head back and moaned. It didn’t hurt, it was…not pleasure exactly yet, but it would be soon enough. Dick knew exactly where Tim’s prostate was. Could locate it even when half asleep.

Dick thrust in carefully and then shifted Tim around a bit until his cock hit that sweet spot. Tim’s cock was leaking. He reached for it and started stroking.

“I love watching you, Tim,” Dick said.

“Feeling's mutual,” Tim groaned. This was better than he had hoped for. “Harder?”

Dick complied and soon Tim was meeting him thrust for thrust. Racing toward his own orgasm selfishly.

When he came, clenching down on Dick’s cock, he took Dick with him. Dick collapsed on top of him and he just breathed in Dick’s scent.

“Did you like it?” Tim asked.

“Yes.”

“Can I ride your cock next time and come all over your chest?” Tim wanted to know.

Dick groaned into his neck.

“Is that a yes?” Tim teased.

“Yes, it is,” Dick said, turning his head so he could kiss Tim’s scar. Tim slung his arms around Dick and let his fingers run mindless patterns over his back.

“Good,” Tim said. “Nap now?”

“Yes,” Dick replied, humming into Tim’s skin.


End file.
